


a mere blink

by peternureyev



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Barduil - Freeform, M/M, Sad, bard is dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:19:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3586062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peternureyev/pseuds/peternureyev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf, thranduil had told thorin, before he met bard. So true it had proved.</p><p>bard is dying and thranduil cannot stop time</p>
            </blockquote>





	a mere blink

“Remember Laketown?”

There was no reply, just a faint smile on Bard’s lips, and a twitch of his closed eyes. Grey hair lay about his head, all colour faded, as it had been for many years. His skin was wrinkled and coarse, hands folded over his chest. _As if he was dead already,_ Thranduil could not help but think. He shook away the thought and turned back to the elderly King of Dale.

“That first night…I knew it was you. After that there was never any question.”

A sob caught in his throat, tears welling up in his chest. Bard opened his eyes a fraction and met his dark brown eyes to Thranduil’s blue.

“You were so beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed. You still….you still are, my love. The years have changed me so much, but not you, Thranduil. You could have left so long ago, but you remain with me as I wither and fade away. How?” Bard said, hands shaking ever so slightly, like paper blowing in the wind.

“ _Bard, ci velethril nîn.”_

Tears came, dripping down his smooth face, tangling in his long hair, sliding off his pointed chin. The immortal elf king knelt down beside the dying man and stroked his forehead. His temperature was high, beads of sweat rolling off his brow and into his white hair.

It seemed like so short a time ago they had met, so little time since they had first touched, since they had stood outside Erebor and taunted Thorin Son of Thror. Such a short time since the battle, so short a time…a fraction of time, moments pieced together.

 _One hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf_ , Thranduil had told Thorin, before he met Bard. So true it had proved. It had not even been one hundred years since they had first shared that night together in Laketown. And now he was going to lose someone he loved more than life, again. When his wife had passed away, he thought he’d never love again. But Bard had made him feel what it was like to love again. What it was like to live.

A wracking cough came from the shell of a man before him, and several attendants rushed forwards to Bard’s sickbed. But Thranduil shooed them all away.

He lightly caressed his lover’s face, and Bard sighed at the cool touch.

“ _Ni melig,_ Thranduil?If you love me, leave me.”

“ _Gi melin, aran vell._ I will not leave your side. _”_

“Please leave. I cannot…I cannot have you see me like this. The end is soon, we both know that, and I know it will break you. Leave me, please.”

“I cannot leave you! I cannot, and you cannot leave me!”

“If only it was so simple, my love, but I-”

He coughed again, gasping for breath and Thranduil’s heart broke at the sound. Bard shook beneath him, the elderly man grasping for strands of pale blond locks that hung in his eyes.

“So beautiful…you always were…so beautiful...like the stars…”

And then he was gone.

Thranduil knew not how long he lay there, sobbing into the silk bedsheets, tears staining his face. He remembered screaming at the sky, _do not take him from me, you cannot take him from me!_ He remembered pulling Bard’s limp frame into him, the body already cooling. _So small, had he always been so small?_

They made him leave, in the end. Servants tried to assist him out of the door. He ignored them, stalking out of the king’s palace. Tilda stood at the entrance, watching him. She had lost her father, he had to remember that, but he could not feel any grief but his own.

Moments ticked by, years passed, and the King of Mirkwood stood in his empty halls, and felt time dance by him.

The stars looked down on him, and he could never look back. They reminded him too much of what he had loved, and lost.

**Author's Note:**

> hmm, i tried writing barduil.   
> check out my tolkien tumblr eveningisgrey.tumblr.com


End file.
